


you fell through the cracks in my hands

by knoxoursavior



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 14:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16683385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knoxoursavior/pseuds/knoxoursavior
Summary: It’s faint, barely audible under Sing’s voice, but Yut-lung hears it anyway, and he only needs a second to recognize Eiji’s voice on the other end of the line.





	you fell through the cracks in my hands

It’s faint, barely audible under Sing’s voice, but Yut-lung hears it anyway, and he only needs a second to recognize Eiji’s voice on the other end of the line. Even though it’s been years since he last talked to Eiji. Even though the last time he talked to Eiji, he was still drowning in the need to see Ash suffer, to see Eiji ripped away from his side.

Well.

Yut-lung got what he wanted in the end, and he’s paying for it even now.

His lips twist into a frown, his hands curling into fists where they rest on his lap. Suddenly, he’s glad for the distance between him and Sing.

Sing did a good job of keeping Yut-lung and Eiji separate, but Yut-lung was the one who took that extra step. He was the one that left, the one who chooses to stay away even now. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t like it; this is what’s best for all of them.

Eiji will never forgive Yut-lung for his part in Ash’s death, and Yut-lung doesn’t expect him to. Yut-lung will never be able to forgive Eiji either.

Maybe it’s because the only two people who have shown Yut-lung any semblance of care have, in some way, picked Eiji over him. Maybe it’s just the guilt festering in Yut-lung’s chest, growing bigger and bigger with every year that passes. Maybe it’s the jealousy that snuck up on him, that digs its claws into his heart deeper and deeper with every single day that Sing clings to Eiji in the hopes that someday, Eiji will stop looking to the space beside him, wondering why Ash isn’t right there with him.

Maybe it’s just that Eiji is everything Yut-lung isn’t.

It doesn’t really matter. Yut-lung has placed himself far away enough from Eiji that it shouldn’t matter anymore.

“Hey, are you listening to me?” Sing says. His voice is tinged with irritation. He’s had a long day after all, and now Yut-lung is wasting his time.

“Of course I am,” Yut-lung says. It’s a lie, but most of the things that he says are lies and they all roll of his tongue like honey.

Sing huffs under his breath. Yut-lung imagines his eyebrows knit together, his fingers pressing against his temple in an effort to assuage the headache that’s been building up throughout his day.

“Sure,” he says. “Then what was I talking about?”

“You were talking about your meeting today and how everyone is an asshole except for you,” Yut-lung replies easily.

Sing groans.

“Well, it’s true! It’s like they don’t want to work with our company, when they’re the ones who reached out in the first place.”

Yut-lung lets his lips curl upwards into a smile. Sing isn’t here to tease him about it anyway.

“But anyway,” Sing says, “that was five minutes ago, you jerk.”

“Have you forgotten that you already sent me a report earlier today?” Yut-lung rolls his eyes. “I don’t call you to listen to you talk about work, Sing.”

Sing doesn’t reply for a moment. All Yut-lung can hear is the static of his breaths and the news playing in the background. Then—

“I know,” Sing says. “It’s just that—”

Yut-lung feels dread start to bubble in the pit of his stomach, but he stamps it down.

“What is it?”

“Sorry, I stepped out of the apartment for a second,” Sing says.

Yut-lung raises his eyebrows.

“Something you don’t want Eiji to hear?”

“Yeah.” Sing sighs, hesitates, and then, “I think I like Eiji.”

Well.

“I could have told you that,” Yut-lung says, and somehow he keeps the edge of bitterness away from his voice.

“No, I mean that I think I  _ like _ Eiji.”

Yut-lung bites his lower lip, stifles the first few things that come to mind. Instead, he says, “I know, Sing.”

Sing takes a deep breath. Yut-lung holds his, afraid that his next breath might be the whimper that’s lodged itself in his throat. Sing doesn’t need to hear that right now. Sing doesn’t need to hear it ever. 

“Is it that obvious?”

“To me? Yes. But I’m good at reading people.”

These days though, he wishes he could just reach into his mind and turn off the switch that makes him  _ see _ .  Because he doesn’t want to. When it comes to Sing, he doesn’t. 

“You never said anything.”

“I told you, didn’t I? As long as you do the work I need you to do, I won’t care who you like or where you sleep.”

Well. Not exactly a lie, but—

It will never be him anyway. 

“It feels wrong,” Sing says, and it should feel like an opportunity. It should feel like a chance for Yut-lung to step in and say  _ yes, yes it’s wrong, it shouldn’t be Eiji, it should be— _

“It’s not,” Yut-lung says. “Why would it be?”

Sing lets out a shaky breath.

“You know, I always imagined that this would go differently,” he says, and for a moment, Yut-lung’s heart stops. Sing can’t know— “I thought you’d tell me I’m being stupid or something.”

Oh. Of course. 

If Sing knew, he wouldn’t be cruel enough to make Yut-lung listen to this.

“You are being stupid,” Yut-lung says. “Don’t tell him if you don’t want to, but don’t say that what you feel is wrong, idiot.”

Sing laughs and Yut-lung has to clutch at the fabric of his shirt over his chest, reaching for an ache he’ll never be able to ease.

“You’re an asshole most of the time, but you’re a good friend, Yut-lung,” he says.

There’s so much fondness loaded in that one sentence, but it isn’t enough. It never is. It isn’t the kind of fondness that Yut-lung wants, not really, and he feels like a selfish asshole sitting here, letting his mouth run with all his pretty words when all he really wants to do is fly back to New York and take Sing away from Eiji.

“I’m hanging up,” Yut-lung says. Finally, the part he has to play coincides with what he wants to do.

“You suck,” Sing says, but there’s humor in his voice that makes Yut-lung’s heart skip and his throat close up at the same time.

“Get back to Eiji,” he says. He doesn’t wait for Sing’s reply, just drops the call because there are pinpricks in the corners of his eyes and bile rising in his throat and he just—

He needs a drink. It doesn’t matter that the sun is barely even up or that he has a meeting in five hours. He just needs one drink.

  
  
  


Yut-lung ends up drinking a whole bottle before breakfast. It’s fine. He’s used to it by now. 

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on [tumblr](http://singeiji.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/singeiji)


End file.
